Hoover Church of Christ Sermons

Every organization must constantly reexamine its reasons for existing, why it “does business,” so to speak. If it doesn’t, it’ll wake up one morning engaged in frenetic activity that has little to do with its purpose.

A company that provides products or services may find itself on the wrong side of changes in the market and may be left behind its competitors. Sales fall off, revenue decreases, and the company goes out of business.

A similar problem faces churches. We’re not interested in “making sales,” of course, but we do face pressure to stray from our Founder’s original intent. Presented with millions of good opportunities, how do we choose? What questions do we ask when we decide what we’re going to do, who we’re going to be?

At first glance, we might assume that the church’s purpose is obvious and that every church member knows it. We might point to passages like this one and suggest that our purpose is clear: “Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen” (Ephesians 3:20-21, emphasis added).

The church—the congregation in Hoover we call home—should bring glory to God.

That sounds simple enough, but what does it mean? And are we doing it? Is “glory to God” something we can measure? If so, how?

We’ve selected a theme for 2018 and presented it to you several times already: Love God. Love People. Change the World.

You’ll hear quite a bit about it in the coming days, but crafting a theme means nothing on its own, of course. Creating catchy graphics and putting banners up are insufficient to change who we are.

But God still shapes his people, and he works powerfully among those who are interested in submitting to his leadership.

Once Jesus was asked the question that we’re asking this year: What’s most important? Why are we here? How do we glorify God?

His answer was simple: Love God. Love People. This, he said, is why we’re here. This is how we glorify God. This is how we fulfill our reason for waking up every morning.

So this year we’ll explore this theme. We’ll ask ourselves some soul-searching questions. We’ll ask God to help us submit more fully to him. And we’ll seek to follow more consistently the leadership of the One who created his church to do his work in the world.

It’s simple but easy to forget: Love him. Love his people. And make a difference in his world.

There’s a tendency for us as Christians to hide the things we’re struggling with, especially the sins that are often considered to be particularly “bad.” In 1 Corinthians 6:9-11, Paul mentions many “bad” sins that these Christians had formerly practiced: sexual immorality, idolatry, homosexual practices, theft, drunkenness, etc. Many of these are considered taboo . . . more so than other sins.

We often handle these sorts of sins differently than other sins, so it becomes okay to struggle with gossip or materialism or covetousness, but not sexual immorality or drunkenness. We can talk about the former but not the latter. Why is that?

Additionally, the Bible often speaks of the benefits of sharing our struggles with our fellow Christians, but we are usually too guarded in doing so. We speak of “our struggles” only generically, leaving only a small part of us open to the people around us.

In this sermon, Darrell helps us reflect on our motives in hiding our true selves and also to consider the many benefits that might come with being more open with our fellow spiritual travelers.

Text: Matthew 1:18-25 

18 Now the birth of Jesus Christ took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been betrothed to Joseph, before they came together she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. 19 And her husband Joseph, being a just man and unwilling to put her to shame, resolved to divorce her quietly. 20 But as he considered these things, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream, saying, “Joseph, son of David, do not fear to take Mary as your wife, for that which is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. 21 She will bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” 22 All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had spoken by the prophet: 23 “Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call his name Immanuel” (which means, God with us). 24 When Joseph woke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him: he took his wife, 25 but knew her not until she had given birth to a son. And he called his name Jesus. (ESV)

Brief thoughts about the text:

The birth of Jesus gets a lot of attention this time of year, and that’s good: Scripture strongly emphasizes it, including a lengthy account in Luke and a shorter one with different details in Matthew. When cultures appropriate biblical stories, though—especially with something as commercialized as Christmas—we run the risk of missing the essence of the event itself.

Perhaps no word distills the meaning of Jesus’ birth as beautifully and completely as Immanuel. Jesus is “God with us.” He is both God and Man. We see his deity in that Mary was a virgin when she conceived and gave birth to him; he had no earthly father, but rather he was conceived “of the Holy Spirit.”

We see his humanity (he is “with us”) in the fact that he was born as every other human being has been born, yet in more humble circumstances than many. He was born to Mary, a remarkable young woman in so many ways, but a woman who was completely human nonetheless. Jesus was a helpless baby—totally dependent on his mother as she held, patted, nursed, bathed, and changed him.

Imagine that—God as a helpless newborn! And yet that’s how God chose to come to us. The Creator of heavens and earth—the One who spoke the galaxies into existence—came to be with us as one of us, subjecting himself to the limitations and frustrations of human existence in our world.

And Matthew sums it up with this word: Immanuel. He is “God with us.” God among us, in us, and for us.

It’s no coincidence that Matthew ends his gospel with these words: “I am with you always, to the end of the age.” He came to Bethlehem to be with us, and he remains with us to this day.

Brief thoughts about the text/sermon:

“Glory” is a word that’s all over Scripture—and it’s a word we use fairly often, especially in church—but its meaning is a bit nebulous and confusing. When God’s “glory” appears, what does that look like? If we bring him “glory,” what does that mean? What exactly is his “glory”?

This is another of those words we use but probably don’t really grasp. But as it turns out, understanding “glory” helps us understand God, and it helps us understand how we relate to him.

Literally, “glory” means “heavy” and is sometimes used of heavy things (or people). From that literal meaning is derived its metaphorical meaning (important, worthy of honor) and sometimes the physical things associated with that importance (e.g., riches).

Significantly, though, God’s glory is seen in the universe that he created (“The heavens declare the glory of God . . .”). But more importantly, it’s seen in the pinnacle of his creation: you and me (he “crowned” us with “glory and honor”).

This is powerful: God created us to reflect his glory to the world. People should look at us and see the glory of God as we reflect his image.

Unfortunately, though, that image became distorted in the fall of Genesis 3, and the story of the Bible is God’s work in the world to restore that image.

That’s what he wants to do in us—conform us more and more into his image so that his glory is seen more clearly. And in a way that’s our commission when we wake up each day: Look like God so that others may see him.